Maybe These Old Feelings Never Went Away
by smc-27
Summary: He should have had forever. He should have had always. He should have had 'It's you', and 'I'll wait forever if I have to' and 'None of my great days matter without you.' He should have had all that. But he always did have all that. Post 5x12 LP Oneshot


**A/N:** Look what I found! A oneshot I wrote and never posted. Happy Friday.

**----**

There are some things you just can't understand.

There are a lot of things Lucas can't understand.

He doesn't know how she could let him do what he did. She doesn't know how she could have let him get up there in front of their entire town and his entire world and say the words and let it all go that far.

But it's possible he's blaming the wrong person.

She came to him. She begged him not to marry that girl. She told him it wasn't right, and that she'd always love him. That she _had_ _always_ loved him. All the little misunderstandings along the way were just that. Misunderstandings. None of them meant that she didn't love him.

He may have been too blind to see that at the time. Hell, he was too blind to ever really see it.

Until now.

He should have had forever. He should have had always. He should have had '_It's you_', and _'I'll wait forever if I have to'_ and '_None of my great days matter without you._'

He should have had all that.

He's the fool who didn't realize that he always _did_ have all that.

But now he's gone and said _'I do'_ to the wrong woman, and it took her walking away for him to realize it. It took her placing that ring in his palm and rushing back the down the aisle with her white dress billowing behind her to see that she was never meant to be his bride.

And he saw the look on that blonde girl's face. That look of complete heartbreak. Her heart was breaking because his heart was breaking. She hurt because he was hurting. She didn't want that life for him.

But he's the fool who proposed out of fear, and stood up in that church in the tux and couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was happening.

He's the fool who actually felt a little bit of relief when Lindsey said she couldn't marry him.

It hurt his heart, of course it did, but it's more of a dull ache, knowing that the one woman who might have been able to save him from the feelings he'd always had for someone else, couldn't fix him. He'd broken her heart in the process.

He'd broken both their hearts.

He'd broken _all_ their hearts.

And now he sits on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic, and he's on his way home, and the only thing he can think of is Peyton. The look on her face when she found out he was with someone new, and the look of hope when she - rightfully, he now realizes - told him that he was still in love with her. The devastation when she learned he was engaged, and the bravery she showed standing in that church, her best friend by her side, and his best friend standing behind her, both of them holding her up so she wouldn't fall down.

And the look of absolute worry and sadness when he collapsed on those steps in the church and realized that he'd hurt them all in a very big way.

Everything's different now, and he doesn't expect it to be the same.

And for the first time in his life, he really doesn't know what he'll be returning to when he sets foot in his hometown again.

All he knows is that Peyton is there.

But he really doesn't know what that means anymore. He doesn't know if he wants her there, or if he wants to love her, or if he wants her to love him.

He doesn't know if maybe he's broken her heart one too many times.

_----_

He's been gone a month, and one month without Lucas Scott in this town makes it feel a little bit less like home. She's never been here without him, not really, and she thinks that she doesn't want to be.

But she doesn't want him to be here either. He married someone else, that woman just didn't marry him back. No one understands that but Peyton, and she can't explain it, so she's stopped trying. She puts on a happy face, and she says all the right things, and she acts like her heart doesn't wrench in her chest any time she hears his name.

But it's all pretend.

She doesn't want to love him. She's tired of loving him. She's been doing it far too long, and she's never gotten any further than where she was before she even knew him, so she doesn't want to do it anymore.

She tried to stop him. She did everything she could to try to make him see that he was about to make a mistake. She yelled, she cried, she threw things, she kissed him.

She told him she loved him.

And he did nothing. He kept saying that one phrase over and over again - _I'm in love with her, Peyton. -_ and she was sure he was just enjoying twisting the knife.

And she's tired of it.

She stood there next to Brooke, with she and Skills literally holding her up so she didn't collapse under the weight of the knowledge that Lucas didn't care about her heart.

He caught her eye as he tumbled backwards on those steps at the altar, and she almost saw a flash of remorse there. It was almost like he realized what she'd been trying to tell her all along.

But those two little words kept ringing in her ears._ 'I Do'_. He all but said that her love meant nothing to him, and she almost didn't survive it. It really did almost kill her. She's heard of people dying of a broken heart, and she's almost positive she came close.

She cried for days, buried in a shroud of guilt and concern and feeling like she'd never have him again. And if she didn't love Lucas Scott, then what should she do? She'd tried not to love him. She'd tried to love other people, and she couldn't do it. So what next? What was she supposed to do?

How do you just get over your soul mate when he thinks you aren't his?

She hears he's coming back to town. Haley casually slipped it into a conversation Peyton was around to hear. And she really wants that to have an effect on her other than the one it does.

She's angry. She's sad and bitter and jaded, and she doesn't want to talk to him.

Well, of course she does. She just doesn't _want_ to want to talk to him.

He's broken her heart one too many times.

_----_

She manages to avoid him for a month, and he knows she's doing it. He'd like to be mad at her for that, but he can't, because he's been avoiding her, too. He's just not ready to talk to her, and she's not ready to talk to him, and he won't push anything.

He doesn't even know what he'd say. Too much has been said, and somehow not enough has been said, and he feels like whatever words he might choose would be the wrong ones. It's just easier not to see her and not to have to come up with the words that might hurt her even more; that might hurt himself even more.

But then he sees her one day, and she's struggling to talk on the phone, hold her coffee, and balance a box of something or another under her arm. He can't just let her walk down the street without giving her a hand, so he rushes towards her and wordlessly takes the box from her. She doesn't end her call or really acknowledge him at all, other than a tense nod, but he follows her to her car and sets the box in the passenger seat.

He feels a pang of guilt when he sees the for sale sign tucked up against the windshield.

She doesn't say a word. She doesn't wave to him. She just flashes a lopsided smile as she turns the key and drives away.

And he feels...he has no idea what he feels. He doesn't know if he should be relieved or angry that she was speaking to someone on the phone the entire time they were together.

He doesn't know if he has any right to be angry at all.

She's in her office, and all she can think is that she should have at least said thank you. She should have hung up on her L.A. label partners and given him a proper smile and thanked him for helping her.

But she's not sure she wants to give him even that. She doesn't want him to think that she still needs him in any way, when he's made it so clear - has been making it clear since she moved back to Tree Hill - that he doesn't need her. She's been doing just fine on her own for two months.

Or at least it's really easy to say she's been doing fine.

But she hasn't, and she's far from being on her own. Nathan watches over her like a protective older brother, and Brooke and Haley have sympathetic looks they shoot her way any time the conversation veers even close to a topic that could bring up that blonde boy. Skills is her drinking buddy, and even he feels the need to very seriously ask her how she's doing every time she sees him. He calls her 'Skinny Girl' and they do shots, and he'll turn to her after a few, when he knows he'll get a straight answer, and she'll look him in the eye and say that she's just OK.

But then one night - a couple days after her run in with Lucas - she and Skills are sipping scotch in her office and listening to an old rap album they've both always loved. And she starts to cry.

She's searching through her desk drawers for a chocolate bar she swears she put there, and insisting that if Haley stole it, she's in for a world of hurt, and she comes upon a photo of herself and Lucas. He's looking at her longingly, and she's got her hand on his heart, and that one little photo makes her own heart break.

And Skills has no idea what to do.

He tries to placate her, and hold her and make sense of the words she's saying through her tears, and the only thing he can really decipher is;

"I want Lucas."

He knows her little statement - those three simple words - have a lot of different meanings.

So he makes a call that he knows everyone might kill him for making.

But if the girl wants Lucas, that's who she should have, and Skills knows that no one in the world would be able to help her like his best friend can.

So he stays with her until Lucas shows up, and then he leaves without any explanation, and he smiles softly to himself when he turns around just before exiting the room, and he sees Lucas stroking Peyton's hair as he holds her.

_----_

She's in his arms for a whole five minutes before she can figure out what to say.

And she really wants to kill Skills.

That, or thank him profusely for finally understanding.

"Hi," she manages.

"Hi," he whispers, pulling away from her a bit.

She wipes her cheeks hastily and gets up from where she was perched at the edge of the pool table, and he knows she's going to attempt a smile and say she's fine. He just knows it.

And the entire drive over here, he was wondering what the hell had him grabbing for his keys at the first mention of her name. But Skills always was a little more in tune to how Lucas felt about Peyton.

After all, he is choosing to be there again.

"So...what's up?" she asks, barely able to keep a straight face at how asinine her question is.

He laughs a little, and she laughs a little, and she pours him a glass of scotch - neat, just like he always liked it.

"What's got you so upset?" he asks, like he knows she fully expects him to. He takes the drink from her outstretched hand and she sits down next to him again.

"I couldn't find my chocolate, and I guess it all snowballed from there," she says, shrugging her shoulders.

"Peyton," he says seriously, shaking his head.

She never was able to lie to him.

"I was just..."

"Skills said you were asking for me," he says, cutting through whatever story it was she was going to tell to avoid telling him the truth. He's not naive enough to think this isn't all about him.

"Skills doesn't know when to mind his business," she mutters, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well, that's true," he says, making them both laugh softly. "What's going on?"

"I...Thank you for the other day," she says, wondering if he'll read between the lines.

"No problem," he insists, shrugging his shoulder. Really, carrying a box for her wasn't exactly back-breaking work.

They're quiet, because she doesn't know what to say, and he doesn't want to press her to tell him the truth. Well, he does want to press her to tell him the truth, he just knows better than to do it.

"I miss you," he says abruptly.

It scares her that she was about to say those very words. It's scary because she's pretty sure he doesn't mean them the same way she does.

"Luke..."

"I just mean...we were friends, and...we've kind of been dancing around each other, and it's a small town," he explains. "I don't want everyone to have to schedule get-togethers around us."

"Me neither," she says softly, looking to the glass in her hands.

"So...maybe we can be friends again," he says. She recognizes a bit of hope in his voice, and she has to smile a little. "I know things are...tense now. But I just..."

"I miss you, too," she whispers, interrupting him.

"Yeah?" he asks, almost in shock at that fact, despite knowing that she apparently told Skills she wanted to talk to him.

"Of course," she says. And she's almost crying again. Almost.

He stands and sets his drink on her desk, and he takes a deep breath like he always has when he's nervous.

"I should go," he states. "You need a ride?"

"I'm fine," she says, trying to smile.

"OK. Well...call me, Peyton. If you need anything," he says earnestly, and she nods her head.

She waits until the doors close behind him to let the tears fall. She wishes that entire encounter had gone completely differently.

She doesn't want to be his friend. She's never wanted to be his friend.

_----_

She keeps avoiding him, and she's pretty sure he's still avoiding her, too.

And she's OK with that.

She's a little embarrassed about their last encounter - what with the tears and all - and she's convinced herself he didn't mean the things he said.

Skills rolls his eyes and calls her a damn fool when she tells him about that night in her office. He tells her that he set them up perfectly for sex on a pool table and she threw away the chance. The look in his eyes tells her he understands that it's not that easy.

She waves at Lucas when they see each other in town, and he waves back, but they still ask their friends if the other will be there when everyone gathers, so they don't need to be in the same space. They're told they're being childish, but Peyton puts a hand on her hip and says she doesn't care, and no one presses the issue. They all know her better than to mess with her when she takes that stance.

She walks into Brooke's shop one day and the three Scott boys are there, talking with the brunette while she folds shirts and takes sips from her coffee. Peyton briefly wonders if that's what the _911_ text from Nathan was all about. She smug grin he wears tells her that it was a setup, and she glares at him purposefully.

"Hi," she says to the collective. Jamie rushes towards her and wraps his little arms around her legs while Nathan and Brooke say hello, and Lucas just nods as he leans against the counter.

"So listen," Brooke starts, "the boys here have a game this Friday, and I'm thinking we should go."

"This is your idea of 911?" she asks, looking to Nathan.

"Basketball related inquiries are always 911," he states proudly, crossing his arms over his chest and all but challenging her to argue with him.

"Well...why, exactly?" she asks hotly, placing a hand on her hip. She catches Lucas' eye and the look he gives her lets her know that he had no idea this would all be happening.

"Because it's fun," Brooke states simply. "Right Jamie? Tell aunt Peyton _how much_ you want her there."

"Brooke," Peyton says, shaking her head.

When Jamie looks up at her with those eyes and pleads with her to go to the game and watch with him, Peyton sighs and smiles and ruffles his hair.

"Fine," she says, shaking her head. Brooke and Nathan are far too happy, and she can tell they rehearsed that little bit with Jamie, knowing no one could say no to him.

So she steps into the gym that Friday night, and she sits between her two best friends, and she pretends she can't tell when Lucas is staring at her, and she pretends she isn't looking when he looks her way.

She wonders how long they're going to do this.

She literally bumps into him in the parking lot. It's well after the game, but she had been talking with Skills and Mouth and lost track of time, and before she knew it, almost everyone else had left.

And she forgot how spooky the high school campus can be at night.

"Oh my God!" she shrieks when she hits a hard body.

"Sorry," he says quickly, grasping her wrists as they fall to his chest. He doesn't know if she'll hit him, but he'd like to avoid it if possible. He doesn't know for what reason she'd be hitting him. He assumes plenty. "Sorry, Peyton."

"Jesus," she sighs, closing her eyes. She calms down a little when he runs his hands up and down her upper arms. "You scared me."

"What are you still doing here?" he asks softly. He tries not to make it sound like an accusation, but he thinks maybe it is one.

"Skills wouldn't let me go until I promised I'd have a beer with him," she says with a laugh.

"Let me guess. At Tric?" he asks. He heaves a sigh as she nods, and he shakes his head. "_Un_believable."

"What?" She takes a step back and folds her arms one over the other.

"You really think these things are all coincidence?" he asks, putting his hands on his hips.

She lets out a bitter sigh and glares at him.

"Is it that awful to spend time in my presence, Luke?" she asks indignantly. "You know what? Tell him I went home."

"Peyton, I didn't mean..."

"Whatever, Lucas," she says angrily, holding up her hand as she walks away.

"Peyton!"

He knows she won't turn around, but it still stings when she doesn't. He really doesn't know what it is that makes him keep hurting her.

----

She goes to L.A. for a week. It was all scheduled and planned, but the timing couldn't be better. She needs to get away from Tree Hill and all the reminders of him. All the places she has to avoid because he might be there, and all the people who keep trying to push them together in their not-so-subtle ways.

And it's a great week. She sees old friends and gets a lot done for work and goes to a few of her old hangouts. She runs into her ex-boyfriend at a party at one of their mutual friends' houses, and when he kisses her, she lets him. But when he asks her if she wants to go to his place, she says no.

Because of Lucas. Again.

All she can think is the way he called her name that night outside of the gym, and the eager way he told her to call if she needed anything, and the way he held her in his arms until she stopped crying, almost like he was hers to hold for a few brief minutes.

She's starting to realize more and more that maybe she just needs him.

While she's waiting for her flight to be called, she dials Brooke's number to see if she can still pick her up from the airport, but she got called to a last-minute meeting in Raleigh, and she's not around. When Peyton calls Nathan, he explains that it's family dinner night with Deb, so both he and Haley are unable to get her. She dials Skills, then Mouth, but it seems they're each out and not answering their phones.

And if this is another setup, she swears to herself that she's never talking to any of them again.

She hears his voice on the line and she immediately feels her temperature spike. The kiss she shared with her ex didn't even make her feel the way that one simple _'hello'_ does.

"Hey, Luke," she says timidly.

"Peyton?" He wonders why he didn't check his caller ID, but he's sure he would have answered anyway.

"Yeah," she says. "Listen, I'm getting in at 8:45 tonight, and I have no one to pick me up, and I wouldn't even ask but..."

"I'll be there," he interrupts her.

"Really? Because I can take a cab, or..."

"Peyton, I'll be there," he insists.

"OK," she sighs. "Thanks, Luke."

"Sure."

As soon as he's hung up the phone, he checks the clock, and he thinks that these next few hours are going to go by really slowly. He finds himself anxious to see her. It's only been a week, and the last time he saw her - only a couple weeks before she left - they were mad at each other. But he's missed her. He's almost missed looking around their town for the places he needs to avoid, and it hits him that he wasn't just looking to avoid her.

He was _looking for her_.

Maybe he's wanted to see her, and he's just been too stubborn to admit it.

He thinks that just maybe it's time to start over.

----

He's waiting for her when she steps through the terminal, and she looks at him with something he hasn't seen in a long time. A genuine smile.

"Hi," she says, letting him take her laptop bag from her shoulder.

"Hey," he says, smiling back at her.

"You could have waited at the curb. You didn't have to come inside," she insists as they make their way towards baggage claim.

"No chance," he scoffs. "I'm not that kind of guy."

She just smiles again, because she already knew that. She knows exactly what kind of guy he is.

"So is everyone actually busy, or is this another pathetic attempt to get us in the same place at the same time?" she asks, wrapping her arms around herself.

He doesn't know if he should be angry at the insinuation that he'd need people to push them together, but that has actually been the trend of late, and he can't really fault her for doubting their friends.

"I think they're actually busy," he says. "Listen, I'm sorry about that night after the game. I was just pissed at..."

"The pathetic attempts to get us in the same place at the same time?" she fills in, and he laughs and nods. "I'm sorry, too. I was...not pleasant."

They talk about her trip while they wait for her bag, and she smiles at what a gentleman he is. He carries her things and holds open the car door for her, and the whole drive back into town they chat about what she missed in the days she was away.

When they pull up to her house, she sees that it's only 9:30. She knows Brooke is out, and she feels like she should repay Lucas somehow for helping her out.

"You want to come in?" she asks abruptly. "For coffee...or a beer or something."

"Um...yeah," he says with a smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

_I'd like that. _

She loves that phrase.

He carries her bags inside for her, and he sets them inside her bedroom while she checks the fridge for drinks.

"We have wine," she says. "But...no beer." She checks the freezer and chuckles. "And a bottle of tequila."

"Tequila, huh?" he asks with a cheeky grin, perching himself atop one of the stools at the counter. "That could be fun."

"Excuse me?" she asks, raising one eyebrow.

"You remember the time I came to visit you in L.A.?" he asks, smiling fondly. "We did shots of José Cuervo at that little Mexican place, and..."

"OK, let's stop that story right there," she says as she laughs and holds up her hand.

She can remember that night vividly. Clothes strewn about and frantic lovemaking. She's not sure that's what he's referring to, but there's a glint of something lustful in his eyes that leads her to believe that's exactly what he was talking about.

"I don't know if I should love or hate that you stock tequila in your house, Peyton," he says, his voice low.

She's almost certain he's flirting.

"How does wine, sound?" she asks, turning back to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of white. "You like wine, right?"

"Sure," he laughs. He always loved to see her so flustered. "Peyton?"

"Hmm?" she asks, turning to him as she opens the bottle.

"You can relax," he says, smirking that smirk she's always loved.

"I'm sorry," she breathes out, setting the bottle on the counter. "I'm just...I don't know why I'm so nervous with you right now."

"Because it's the first time we've _really_ talked one on one since...everything?" he suggests.

"Maybe," she says, and he laughs. "I just want us to get there, you know?"

"We will," he promises. She grins and turns around to grab two glasses. "Wait. Where?"

She laughs this time, and he smiles at her, and they both realize that they're in no position to be making promises about the state of their relationship.

"Anywhere but where we've been," she says softly, and she shrugs her shoulders. "You know..."

"What?"

"I've just been kind of...trying to keep my distance," she says softly, pouring two glasses of wine.

"Why?" He's not sure why he asks, because he knows she's been doing it. But he's suddenly curious about her motives.

"Because I ruined your life, Lucas," she says, placing the bottle on the counter a little too harshly, she realizes.

"What?!" he asks, almost shouting his surprise. "Peyton, you did not."

"If I had never come back, then...Lindsey wouldn't have left," she says softly.

It kills him that she actually believes it. It actually hurts his heart.

Sure, he may have gone through a dark phase where he blamed her, and he may have avoided her during that phase so that he wouldn't say something he regretted, but he's certainly not in that phase any more. He knows it's no one's fault but his own, and he just can't have her thinking anything different.

"Lindsey left because I was an idiot," he explains, his tone suggesting there's no room for argument. "That had _nothing_ to do with you." She scoffs and looks at him disbelievingly. "OK, it had everything to do with you, but _none_ of it is _your_ fault, Peyton."

"I just feel awful, Luke," she admits, sighing deeply and bracing her arms against the counter. "I know how much you...you love her."

"I don't," he insists, shaking his head. He has no idea where this girl gets her strength. He can't even fathom having to say those words about her and another man.

"What?"

"I don't love her," he says softly. "I don't think I ever did. Not the way I was supposed to."

"Lucas, what are you...? What are you saying?" she asks. She wonders if he can hear her heart beating or see her hands shaking. She wonders if he can hear the hope in her voice or the sparkle in her eye that she's sure is there.

"I'm saying..." he starts, as it all hits him - _really_ hits him - like a freight train. "I'm saying that there's only one girl I really ever loved."

She lets herself smile just a little bit, and she closes her eyes and lets out a quick breath.

"And who might that be?" she asks coyly, doing her best not to cry, and he smiles at her

"It always comes back to you, Peyton," he says, and she just shakes her head at him.

He watches the tear dance at the corner of her eye, and he's painfully aware that the counter is still separating them. He's also very aware that nothing else is anymore. No third parties or crossed lines or mixed signals or misinterpretations.

"Do you really mean that?" she asks timidly. "Because if you don't..."

"I mean it," he says firmly. He stands from his spot and walks around the counter to place his hands on her cheeks. "I promise."

"I've heard promises from you before," she reminds him. It's a low blow, and she knows it, but she can't have a broken heart again. She just can't.

"I can't be without you anymore," he says quietly, running his thumb over her cheekbone. "I don't want to, and...I can't."

She lets herself put her arms around his neck, and she desperately clutches the fabric of the collar of his shirt.

"Say you love me," she breathes out, looking into his eyes.

He tries to kiss her, but she pulls away, and they both smile a little bit. She knows he's going to say it, and he knows she wants him to kiss her. But she needs to hear the words. He rests his forehead against hers, and he can smell the subtle, faint notes of her perfume, and he can't imagine ever being near a woman who doesn't have that little trace of vanilla on her skin.

"I love you," he whispers.

The tear falls from her eye, and it trails down her cheek as she kisses him, and he pulls away when it hits his lips.

He knows he has a million things to apologize for, and that he has no business wiping her face with his index finger or smiling at her or loving the feeling her her arms around his neck. He knows she's an amazing woman; the proof of it is that she'd even talk to him at all after all he's put her through.

"I love you," he says once more, and she smiles and nods her head.

"I love you, too," she says softly.

They're words she's waited so long for him to want to hear again, that she almost couldn't say them.

Almost.

----

They're laying together in Peyton's darkened bedroom when they hear the front door open, and a very excited Brooke talking on the phone to who they instinctively know is Haley. They look at each other and giggle as they overhear the conversation.

"No! His car is here!...Her door is closed, but his jacket is out here...I know!...They're so getting back together as we speak...Well, it's about time...I'm telling you right now, if your best friend hurts my best friend again, he'll have to answer to me..."

They hear her walk up the stairs, and Lucas pulls Peyton a little closer, tilts her chin up and kisses her gently.

"You'll have to answer to me, too," she says in a warning tone, though her index finger is tracing hearts on his bare chest.

"OK," he says simply, pressing a kiss to her hair. "OK."

**_-Fin-_**


End file.
